How it works (in my head)

I’m reading the Wikipedia page
Tristan and Isolde
Romeo and Juliet
And I stumble on
Cyrano de Bergerac

A man who is too self concious
To tell the woman he’s madly in love with
How he feels

My mind is jolted as I recall
Just a few days before
Finding my own copy of Cyrano
(In it’s native French)
Out of place, in a pile

Could he have left it there
When he was here
And no one was looking
Did he take it off the shelf
And put it out of place
In hopes that I would find it
And think of him

But that seems fairly far fetched
And just how long has it been out of place
Sitting in that pile, unnoticed

And while my heart soars thinking
About this special sign
My brain reminds me
It’s probably just coincidence
A random placement of a random book
From some random cleaning day
And tones down my reaction
(The book is also sitting on top of a picture of a heart,
But did I move the book when I first noticed it?)
My brain says surely this is not real.

And I cannot ask him
Like Schrodinger’s cat
Once I’ve asked him
(Overlooking the fact that he won’t answer me)
I’ve ruined the system
Just asking gives the opportunity
To say yes
Even if it isn’t true

So it remains
A mystery
Maybe I let myself feel
The emotions
Of a thoughtful lover
For just a moment
Before slamming the door
And sending the thoughts back down
Into the dark

No one believes me
Not my new friend to whom I tell all
Not my old friend to whom I tell most
Nor my sisters to whom I’ve told enough
Some days I don’t believe me

But some how...
Some how...
My brain
Skeptical as it
Thinks this is real
Maybe not the part about ‘Cyrano’
But enough
Enough is not coincidence
Or too much of a coincidence
That some how...
Some how...
...Ad infinitum